[schwann]

“You change,” said Scarlet, pouting temptingly. “It’s what I love about you. It’s what I hate about you. You’re always changing, but you never change into something like us.”

“Tricks, Scarlet. That’s all they are. Tricks and being lucky.”

“No Jack. You always were a true mystery. That’s what makes you such a juicy bit.” Scarlet leaned forward so her lips were at his ear, her hand in a delightful place. In a husky voice she whispered, “Want to meet later tonight?”

“I couldn’t afford you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not what I meant either.”

They stared into one another’s eyes for a long moment. Someone in the gloom called out to Scarlet, and she straightened, tossing her head in a fiery wave.

“Think about it Jack.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me if you need to.”

And she walked away like a forgotten flower.

The truth was Jack was taking an awfully large risk coming back to Old Eve. Shark Silverton was hardly the only boss whose toes Jack had stepped on; there were still Fingers, Tubba Bubba and Half Dick Dingo. Jack tried not to think about what Half Dick Dingo would do to him if he was caught; but the risk was what made it fun. He was here for a chance that he could not get anywhere else. Four times he’d won, and each time swore it would be the last. But Jack just could not let it go; he could not let go of winning, beating the odds. It would catch up to him one day, he knew, but he was like a druggie looking for his fix. Even now, as Jack told himself tonight would be the last time, the beat of his life seemed to pick up, faster, and harder, making his blood sing.

Jack needed to calm down. His hand went automatically to the coat pocket where he kept smokes, only there was nothing there. He needed a drink.

Jack went to the bar and greeted the bartender.

“Hey Sam.”

“Jack!” Sam the bartender said. He never stopped wiping the glass. “What’ll you have?”

“Gin martini with a rind of lemon. No olives.”

“Coming right up.”

Jack debated wagering Sam for the martini, but the fact that Sam was still alive after all these years in a bar like Heaven’s Grace meant he had uncommon luck; and Jack would need all of his luck tonight. Besides, a friendly bartender was always useful, and losers were never happy with you, no matter how honest the gamble was.

The bell over the door tinkled, and on instinct a dozen hands went to weapons. A second later, the sound of low talk picked up again, only this time there was a different buzz to it.

Jack looked over at the newcomer and frowned. A young woman stood in the doorway. If she was more than a couple months over eighteen, Jack would bed Scarlet. Her dress was blue and revealing; she had sleek blonde hair, large doll-like eyes, and a straight, dainty nose. There was none of that predatory study in her gaze that the other women had; she was more like a deer caught in headlights.

“Your martini Jack.”

“Thanks Sam.”

Jack paid the bartender, adding a healthy tip. He continued his open observation of the newcomer. He wasn’t the only one. Several men were eyeballing her. Some of the women appeared to be sizing her up, a few contemptuous sneers played around their lips. They all looked like disbelieving wolves who had just seen a lamb wander willingly into their midst.

“Say Sam, who’s the broad that just walked in?”

Sam glanced over at the girl as if he’d just noticed her. Jack wasn’t fooled. Sam didn’t miss a trick.

“Don’t know, never seen her before,” Sam said shrugging. “Good looking girl, but she looks ready to piss her pants to me.”

Jack had to agree. This was a wolves den, where lions and vipers happened to share. If you were uncertain about entering a place like Heaven’s Grace, then you weren’t ready for a place like Heaven’s Grace.

Well, whatever she was doing here had nothing to do with Jack Landers and his business. He took the gin martini and went back to his table. He had just seated himself comfortably when he noticed she was making a straight beeline for him.

“Oh damn,” Jack muttered under his breath. This was the last thing he needed.

She stepped right in front of him and asked in a too loud voice, “May I have a seat?”

What could he do? Jack gestured towards the empty chair Scarlet had sat in. Its previous occupant was watching them from across the room, no longer smiling. When a woman watched you like that, you took care not to turn your back on her.

The lamb didn’t notice a thing, of course. She sat down, and gave him a tentative, tremulous smile. It was nothing like Scarlet’s smile—a smile that belonged with silken sheets, velvet pillows and absolutely nothing else—it was a too honest smile, too obviously unpracticed. Her sky blue eyes told the whole story: She was frightened, but trying to act tough. Jack wanted to sigh.

“How may I help you?”

“Oh, you know, I was wondering if you were interested in a companion for the night.” She tried to brighten her smile, revealing perfectly white teeth.

Jack winced. She talked too loudly, too direct. No subtlety. Half the men in the room now knew she was available. How did she happen to find her way into Heaven’s Grace, of all places? Her being alive tomorrow would be a miracle worthy of Jesus.

Jack leaned forward and said in a hurried whisper, “Listen little lady. I don’t know where you’re from or who you are, but this isn’t the way things are done around here.”

Her smile faltered, finally. She tried to bluster her way out.

“I was just offering to you first,” she said, obviously flustered. “If you don’t want to, I’m sure I can find someone else….”

“Someone else won’t wait for you to offer,” Jack hissed. “They’ll come and have their way with you, and if you’re lucky, you might be alive tomorrow.”

Her mouth shaped into an almost comical “o”. The lamb finally realized she was with wolves. She lowered her voice.

“Sorry, it’s just…I didn’t know…Cou—Could you please help me?” Her last words were a whispered plea.